


Alisha's Tears

by djkiwi2576 (Kiwi25)



Category: Misfits
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-08
Updated: 2011-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-15 12:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiwi25/pseuds/djkiwi2576
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patience is a virtue that falls by the wayside when Simon sees Alisha's tears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alisha's Tears

**Author's Note:**

> Implied spoilers through episode 2x03. May be slightly AUish.

_**Alisha's Tears** _

**__**

  


The first time it happens it’s purely an unintentional stroke of genius. He hasn’t nailed down maneuvering between timelines, returning to his somber existence, and the days when she’s really beginning to see him. He interrupts her first kiss, masked by the shadows, angered by the lanky boy with wandering eyes and roving hands. He can’t act – interference _now_ could end the thing Simon values most. He disappears returning to the flat without the alto his ears longs to hear.

 

The clock ticks - hours before his next opportunity.

 

There are times he appears and there is no threat imminent.

 

The birthday party with the pony…

 

The ballet recital…

 

Then there are moments like today.

 

In some ways he’s more a monster than the _superhoodie_ he’s heard his friends call him. His face is hidden from sight by the light armor and expressionless mask.

 

The sniffles of the little girl echo across the park. She’s alone on a swing, gripping the chains of the equipment as she drags the tips of her toes in the damp sand as she moves in jagged lines back and forth...back and forth.

 

Stealthily moving towards his target, Simon stops, noting the hair on the back of his neck that stands on end; the increase in the rate at which his heart beats and the knot that settles in the pit of his stomach.

 

He’s never been able to stand by and watch Alisha cry.

 

Except this isn’t their Alisha.

 

At five she’s a pint-sized version of the woman who is the flame to his fire. Her hair is a messy jumble of sandy curls and dark strands. Her cheeks are flushed and her bottom lip continues to quiver with each sob.

 

Amazingly, she’s not scared.  

 

Her green eyes are trained on what should be his face, studying each and every flex of his muscles as he steps closer. She follows the hands he holds out in front of his chest as he kneels to study the cut on her left knee. There’s blood, dirt, and pieces of gravel and he’s sure that this angel is seconds away from a bloody wail that will send the demons fleeing for hell.

 

He wants to touch her. Brush the cascading trail of tears from her eyes and echo soothing words in an attempt to ease her obvious pain.

 

He can’t.

 

He needs…

 

They need this moment to happen. Disappointment and hurt mingled with a myriad of fragile emotions that she’s too young to properly convey. It kills him that he can’t scoop her into his arms and take her away - _now_ before girls and boys – men and women who are destined to break her heart, destroy her soul, and use her body.

 

He just has to wait – patience is a virtue he's yet to acquire.

 

Even now she’s beautiful and he’s so close to saying it – words little Alisha never heard. They’re the catalyst of the painstaking journey that finally brings them together.

 

He stands with his hands still poised and ready to comfort. The drone of the LED screen back in the flat floods his ears and he feels the moment slipping between his fingers.

 

“It’s going to be okay.”

 

Her eyes are bright, beautiful, even through the weight of her tears.

 

“Trust me I’m from the future.”

 

The smile she bestows, refreshes Simon's memory and he remembers why he accepted this challenge.

He’s never been able to watch his Alisha cry.


End file.
